After Jennifer S. Cheng 1: the sea captured in a glass 2: a homophone for having enough for leftovers, a synonym for abundance 3: the fish, who have already forgotten you. It’s not personal 4: where memory fails, there’s still imagining 5: you. Not as an ocean but outside 6: glass and/or acrylic
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* Voltage-gated pathways are depolarizedand pore-forming membrane proteinsallow calcium influx from adjacent solutions. (Cell insides become saturated) Excitation is mossy fiber runningsouthbound head-stems and paired shootsthrough once-relaxed tissue. * You’ve established rules,preventative
What separates us from our lives / is a see-through thing. /
After 100 days learning German on Duolingo.com Your cow is pretty. I
1.if you look closely—and you will—you’ll see not parts, but the suggestion of parts. the only limit isthe imagination, which naturally, turns to sex. did you ever play the original sims? did
The silence to which each sound returns, arises is always pooling. And within that pool, another silence upwells, creating caverns and currents, rooms and halls and roads— What does the mind do
Even the father in this children’s cartoon is inadequate. Taking his kids to the pool, he doesn’t think to bring sunscreen, hats, towels, toys, snacks, not even water to drink—and, to think,
trying to keep it quiet I’m cramming in egg shells and potato peels emptying the fridge rolling out line after line of flag-print stamps ⠀ oh please keep it from shrieking at
feet slap dark moss soft webbed platypus plap plap plap bump on my eardrum tap tap tap cave-wall lit like a microphone my amoeba legs flow in and out lightly on
Empty your mind, be formless, shapeless like water.Now, you put water into a cup, it becomes the cup.Now, water can flow or it can crash.Be water. —Bruce Lee 1. When the lineup
LM Brimmer is a co-editor of the anthology Queer Voices: Poetry, Prose and Pride (2019); their essays and poetry have recently appeared in The Colorado Review, Heavy Feather Review, Tiny Spoon Lit
I’ve always balked at playing scalesbut I’ll stand on a girderhipshot in floral board shorts,a vintage weirdo pokingthe membrane between here and now.⠀ I need my sea green eyeshadesto scan this fiddly
My heart, a jackalbecoming wild,for beholdingat a distance.⠀ I wake up unrelenting.I stay that way forever.⠀ No sound but a sirenfrom my mouth.I sit in the stainand gnash at myself.⠀ All animal,
A Short Film Starring Me at a Bathhouse I have a line of men waiting to see me. Inside, their hands extend when I walk down halls.I can see their palms glisten
